


So beautiful and wild

by MrsWickham



Category: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Consent, Eloping, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Sex, Wickham is no scoundrel here, kind of a wedding night, things going into stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 01:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsWickham/pseuds/MrsWickham
Summary: George Wickham and Lydia Bennet elope and spend their first night together in an inn near London. George has plans for that night, and so has Lydia.





	So beautiful and wild

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laure001](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laure001/gifts).



> I once read a quote, saying we never actually _see_ Wickham doing any bad things, we just _hear_ about them. So what if we believe that for a moment or two and dive into this story?

They arrived at the inn near London after dusk, the horses needed a well deserved rest and no other carriage would leave that evening. It would take them more time to travel to Scotland, and Lydia mused that _George_ probably was right - better spending a few days in London than getting caught on their way to Scotland. 

It was an unfamiliar sensation to think of him as George, but she couldn’t call her husband _Wickham_ , could she? Because she would be _Mrs Wickham_ soon, and her only regret despite all her joy was the impossibility to see her sisters‘ expressions of envy and jealousy under the layers of disgust and rejection when they‘d learn the news of her marriage.

Mister Wickham, _George_ , had ordered a light supper to their room and now offered his arm to lead her into the small hall and then upstairs.

The inn clearly had seen better days, but the stairs led to a small hallway with four doors, one of these leading into a small but clean chamber with a bed and a wooden table with two chairs. 

A young maid had prepared a fire with deft hands and left the room now as they entered, tilting her head down shyly.

„Are you hungry, Mrs Wickham? Or would you like to - _rest_?“

It wasn’t that George Wickham was without a conscience. Or manners, or doubts. Not at all. It was just that he‘d decided some time ago that a conscience was something one had to be able to afford. 

The Bennet family wasn’t well off, not even the slightest hint of wealth. But the youngest daughter bringing herself into an _unfortunate situation_ would bring up considerations and determination to solve the matter as quickly as possible.

Which certainly would include a decent dowry, even more so now, with the given situation. In fact, it would be higher now, taking a certain _urgency_ into consideration, given the fact that Lydia had left Brighton with him.

But whatever his intentions were for the weeks and months to come, right now he was determined to focus on more pressing matters.

Making this night a memorable one, to name just one.

For himself, certainly. But that didn’t exclude the possibility to pay attention to his _bride‘s_ pleasure.

There had been some _promising_ moments during their short acquaintance and now-

„I‘d like to rest, Mr Wickham,“ his travelling companion giggled, her smile a little dumb but mischievous, „what about you?“

„Whatever you wish is my command,“ he said, taking her hand and tilting his head to place a kiss on the back of it, his lips resting there for a second too long.

When he raised his head, he looked down at her, thinking that the person he‘d honestly promise lifelong affection had not been born yet. But many marriages had been built on less than affection, and he clearly felt some, which was new to his register, and on less than attraction. And with the latter one, there was clearly no lack of it. 

That and the prospect that Mr Bennet would certainly take measurements to provide for his daughter, and in doing such, for her husband as well. And it wasn’t expected for a man to stay solely with his wife forever, he certainly could look for distractions should he ever feel so. But for now-

So he stepped back and put his uniform coat on one of the chairs. Then he took Lydia‘s hand, thinking how much more delicate her sister‘s hand was, and led her to the bed, making her sit on the worn out linen. Squatting down on one knee, he carefully untied the silky bow and slid of the soft leather shoe from her foot, well aware Lydia was holding her breath - and finally silent.

After he‘d done so with her other shoe, he let his hands wander over the silk of her stockings, under the delicate musselin of her dress, clearly made for a day walking on Brighton pier rather than a long trip in a rented carriage. 

He reached her knees and splayed his hands, his thumbs forming a connection, moving his hands further up, pressing her thighs gently against each other until he reached the edge of her stockings and an inch of warm skin. She wasn’t wearing drawers but he approved the lack of them as beneficial for the purpose of this night.

Lydia had allowed him some _liberties_ during their previous encounters, and he had allowed himself some _amusement_ in a certain house last week, but he felt excitement building up and knowing that he had all night to consume her, and the next night, and then again-

She was young. Very young. And he was her first. So he‘d be gentle. She‘d learn fast.

Her breathing hitched when he hooked a finger under her stocking, moving it down, revealing more soft skin, his hand edging between her thighs while doing so. 

„Mister Wickham,“ she whispered, in astonishment and then she was silent again.

He took time to roll down her stockings, exploring the soft skin beneath them, his hands hidden under the layers of musselin of her dress, his hands encircling her ankles, trailing upwards again, his fingertips grating over warm skin, slipping under the hem of her shift.

„Get up, my dear.“

He himself got up, opened his boots and kicked them away, rather ungraceful, but the girl didn’t pay attention but smiled at him with bright eyes.

He stepped behind her and loosened the gathering of her gown, carefully undoing the hooklets to open it then. It would be her only piece of clothing for a few days, so better be careful.

He helped her to step out of it and admired her slender form, now only covered by her petticoat and stays.

„I‘ll undress you now, my dear, and I want you to allow me to see you,“ he whispered, bending down to kiss her for the first time today, pleased to feel the eagerness with which she responded to him. 

She parted her lips for him, responding to his kiss with the abandon he’d hoped for, her body pliant under his touch when he slowly started to open her stays without ever breaking that kiss. When the back side was open, he let his fingers trail along her spine, feeling goosebumps rising and subsiding under his touch.

When he finally broke away she looked right into his eyes, a twinkle dancing in her eyes.

“You opened all the ribbons, don’t you think it’s time to consume your present?”

“If this is what you are asking for, my lady.”

And with that he slowly withdrew her stays, revealing perfectly rounded breasts, only hidden by a thin veil of transparent cotton now, a dark shadow beneath the fabric telling him where he wanted to place his lips.

 

Lydia enjoyed the moment of sheer adoration, for the first time in her life being the only one, and raised her arms to allow her fiancée to lift the thin underdress over her head, revealing her nude body to him.

“This might surely be the most exceptional present I ever got,” George whispered, and took her hand, placing a soft kiss on it before he led her the few steps over to the bed.

“This might be the last moment for you to tell me that you changed your mind, my love,” George told her, gently pushing her to lie down on the rough blanket. “You deserve a nicer place, softer sheets, more beauty around you. And I promise there will be better days.”

“I adore your gentleman-like manners, Mister- ah, George. But it’s not right and proper to tell a lady to undress and then - not undertaking the next steps.”

This made him laugh, and Lydia loved to see him laugh, it made him look so gentle.

“You are right. This is what you do to me. Make me losing my concentration.”

But then he bent over her and she thought he wanted to kiss her, and that’s what he did then, but not her mouth - she’d never felt such an exquisite feeling ever before in her life. He placed his lips on her collarbone, warm and promising, butterfly kisses on the soft swell of her breast, and then his lips grazed over the tip of her breast - making Lydia gasp. 

“This is for your pleasure, my dear,” Lydia heard the sentence but couldn’t come up with an appropriate answer because when George enveloped that small bud with his lips, and started sucking it, Lydia was in heaven - or as close as she’d ever get.

“Pleasure instead of subtlety and modesty - I could get used to that,” Lydia purred, reminding George of a kitten satisfied with her milk.

Making her forget about modesty and reservation - oh yes, that was very much the plan for tonight.

Maybe getting married would come with more benefits than just the much needed financial support after all. 

He’d give her time tonight, and would accept each boundary she’d set, although he was fairly sure she’d allow him every step he’d ask for. And he’d make it good for her. 

Feeling a pleasant friction when he pressed himself against her slender thigh, he started exploring her delicate body, enjoying the softness of her skin, fondling her small firm breasts, the surprised gasp she made when he sucked harder, the whimper she elicited when he carefully added grating teeth.

Lydia’s eyes were closed now, and there was a vulnerability in her face that struck an odd tenderness in him. 

He leant in to kiss her lips, softly, feeling her breathing against his mouth when he slowly let his hand trail south, between her legs.

“You tell me when you want me to stop.”

“Oh no. Quite the opposite,” Lydia sighed, opening her eyes in surprise, “this is… probably not decent… not appropriate… but…”

“For what it’s worth, I never believed in appropriate behavior or manners - at least not when it comes to _this_ , my dear.”

“Oh, George, I-“

“Save your breath, dearest, you might need it soon,” he whispered into her ear, causing a pleasant tingle.

And then Lydia was indeed too distracted to keep talking, a welcome change, as far as George Wickham was concerned.

But watching her face as his fingers found their way between her legs, parted the soft and delicate skin, soft caresses, and then slowly started to explore the tender secret landscape - that was a pleasure he hadn’t expected. Surprise, a moment of shock, and then she let go - he hadn’t seen many women allowing themselves to uninhibitedly enjoy that kind of attention before. Her cheeks were rosé now, she raised her slender hips to meet his hand, her sweet lips were parted and the image which came to his mind when the tip of her tongue moistened her lips was beyond arousing. 

_Not tonight. But soon._

That he was sure of. She’d be willing to please him in every way - and to his own surprise he wanted to please her. In every way a man could please a woman.

He wanted to see that affection in her eyes. And if that required a marriage, so be it. He wanted to be the one who made her delicate skin flush with a veil of rosé when he gave her a knowing smile. And he wanted her to breathe his name and he wanted her to beg him for more. And he wanted to undress that delicate body when he came home from his next posting, knowing she waited for her husband to be back.

“You never did that before, my love?”

“Wickham,” her indignant tone made him breathe a laugh against her cheek, “a lady would never-“

“But my wife would. A few more moments, my dear, and you will crave for more.”

And he was right. Two fingers, much too careful first, finding a spot Lydia hadn’t known before but would never forget now, touching her in a way which certainly wasn’t decent - and her body was shuddering and trembling and she couldn’t suppress laughing.

But he held her in a tight embrace and didn’t stop, still touching that exquisite spot, and it didn’t stop getting even _better_.

He knew she was _there_ , her breathing and the sweet sounds she made told him all he needed to know, and this was when he slowly moved the tip of one finger downwards, and then inside her, using her own wetness to slowly glide his finger into her in that moment of utmost pleasure. 

“My only desire is to please you, Lydia,” and in that moment it was the truth, “so if I fail I-“

But Lydia didn’t respond, at least not with words - but surging hips and a soft scream were enough of consent as far as he was concerned. 

When she finally stilled, her face buried against the sanctuary of his chest, he carefully removed his finger.

“Is this how it will be?”

“Lydia.”

He carefully tilted her upwards, his hands buried in her locks now, and sought her mouth for a kiss.

“This is how it will be. And if you would consider allowing me-“

“You shouldn’t need to ask again. I know my own mind very well.”

“We are not husband and wife yet.”

“But we will be wedded soon.”

“Yes.”

“So then let us have some of the delights just now.”

“It will probably more delightful for me than it will be for you, my dear. But I promise that it will be more enjoyable for you each time.”

“George?”

He let his hand trail along her body and softly covered her breast before he looked at her.

“Why don’t you undress, my dearest _husband_?”

“Your wish is my command, wife.”

This was going to be much pleasurable than he had expected, he had to admit. He had hoped for her consent. And now she granted him not only her trust but seemed to enjoy their nightly tete a tete truly and thoroughly.

So he obeyed, starting with his shirt after he had sat up, feeling anticipation clouding his mind and raising his spirit. Lydia looked at him, still alluringly naked on the worn bed sheets, and he thought that her beauty and trust were more than he deserved.

She didn’t look away when he stepped out of his breeches, and he was surprised by her curiosity - and then again, that was part of her very own charm. 

George Wickham came to lie next to his bride again, searching her mouth for a tender kiss, knowing his patience would be rewarded sweetly very soon.

It was when he parted her lips to kiss her deeper that he felt a small and slender hand trailing along his abdomen, and then soft fingers were closing around him.

“Lydia,” he breathed against her mouth, “Lydia.”

“Is this enjoyable, my beloved? It’s certainly not decent but I came to find that _decent_ often is the opposite of enjoyable.”

“My bride is a wise woman.”

“Teach me.”

Her hand was still around him, perfectly still, and George would not muster the strength required for that act of will much time longer.

So he kissed her once more and whispered in her ear then.

“Move your hand. Up and down. Firmer. This, Lydia.”

 _It is a dream_ , Lydia thought, _it truly has to be a wonderful dream._

It was a night full of wonders. And feeling and seeing how the simple touch of her hand made that proud man, who would be her husband soon, surrender to her was the greatest surprise she’d ever seen in her life.

George lay still, his eyes closed, his beautiful features hers to study, the landscape of his body hers to touch.

Larger than she’d thought, solid and firm, and skin much softer and more silky than she’d expected. 

“Don’t you worry, my beautiful,” he opened his eyes, and Lydia felt her heart aching because he’d read her mind, “it’s meant to be a fit.”

Lydia felt the blood in her chest rising, her cheeks flushed and her skin felt suddenly all too warm.

“Lydia, dearest, I didn’t mean to scare you. Come here, lie with me.”

And when she did, he again started caressing her back, her shoulder first and then lower, and then even lower.

“You could not scare me. Even if you wished to do so. Because I want to give the same to you. The same you gave to me. Now.”

He carefully raised and turned her on her back, his knee between her legs.

“You’d make me happy,” he whispered, and again it was the truth. 

“What else should a bride pursue for? I want to make you happy, and want this night to be a memorable one for you too.”

Adjusting the position of her legs, George supported himself against Lydia’s delicate opening, and slowly pushed inside her, sealing her mouth with a kiss.

_Good God. So tight. So eager to please._

He’d never spent much thought questioning what it meant for the women to allow a man these pleasures but right now he did, moving forward just with the most gentle of all paces, until a sudden gasp told him to still.

“Just that one moment, my love. And then never again.”

He pushed forward once more, felt her body tensing, stifled her shocked little scream with a kiss, and pushed into her once more, hearing her gasp, not stopping before she finally fully accommodated him.

“Did I hurt you, beautiful?”

“It hurt, yes,” and when she managed a small pout, that actually surprised a laugh out of him.

“Lydia,” slowly, so slowly moving his hips, „this is how you make your husband happy.“

And it was true, he hadn’t felt that _alive_ in years. He hadn’t felt such _joy_ for a long time. Not just a quick satisfaction, paid with some coins in certain houses, or one of Pemberley Estate‘s maids, late at night behind the stables, but his _bride_. The admiration in her eyes. The affection. Her wit and her beauty. 

„Lydia,“ he moaned when he felt her relaxing again, with much more abandon than Lydia had ever been granted in her whole life, „Lydia.“

And when he started moving now, it wasn’t painful. Quite the opposite.

„Open your legs a little further, my beloved. Yes. Oh Lydia, yes.“

Slowly moving back and worth, building a slow but pleasurable cadence, stunned when Lydia‘s breathing told him she felt delight for herself again, sweetly encouraged to give her more, and then again - she was so tight and yet wet enough for him to push easily into her, he‘d have her faster and more urgent in another night, soon, this was about seduction and indulgence - and honestly, who was seducing whom? 

„Lydia, this will be- God-,“ he pushed one hand between her and the sheets and pressed her upwards and against him for his last few thrusts, just a little faster, just a moment longer, having her at his mercy, her exquisite body his for those moments of bliss, just one last time - and then he pulled out of her, just the very last moment, and released himself while pressing against the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

„What did you do? I-,“ her voice showed genuine concern, „why did you stop?“

He didn’t answer, his eyes still closed, breathing heavily, and pressed his forehead against hers, relishing the afterglow of what he had just been allowed to enjoy.

„I have to stop at some point. We don’t want you with child too soon, do we?“

„Oh,“ she giggled with delight, „so this was-?“

„Yes,“ and there was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice, „so this was _it_.“

„You took me as your wife.“

„This is one pleasant way to phrase it, so yes, I took you as my wife.“

Lydia fell silent then, and that added to his contentment, and when he finally rolled on his side, he enveloped her in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on her forehead, matting her locks with one hand, taking her small hand into his much larger hand next.

She looked at him and he saw wonder and surprise in her eyes, and a sentiment he had never seen before. And that made him feel a warmth rising in his chest he couldn’t name but enjoyed thoroughly.

„I did not know-,“ she started and he was amazed that she held his gaze and did not break eye contact.

„What?“

„That I should expect you to stay close and hold me afterwards. When I am still nude.“

„Do you want me to help you with your chemise?“

„No. I prefer you to stay. If this is what you prefer too.“

Slowly smoothing his hand down the curve of her spine he pulled his bride closer, enjoying another moment of physical pleasure when she was pressed against him, but her astonishment made him inquire his own mind.

And it was true, he had never had that before, not counting the mistresses he had paid for allowing him to spend the night after a jolly ride, but never like what Lydia and he were experiencing right now. And he came to admit that he enjoyed it, and if he was honest with himself - which happened from time to time - he enjoyed it very much.

„I am just a poor soldier, Lydia. Our lodging will be modest, at least in the beginning. So you will be required to share your room with me - or I will sleep on the kitchen tiles.“

„No,“ her hands came up to frame his face and she placed a kiss on his lips and then another, „I want to share my bed with you, my husband, and there will be more delectable pastimes and then I want you to stay with me, just like now. I just didn’t know.“

And then it happened, and he had not planned it, but apparently his mind had its own way of acting recently.

„I will look forward to this moment every day. And when I am away I will long for you to be with me again. I - I never - not before - not like this - not…“

„Oh, Mister Wickham,“ Lydia whispered, her eyes shining and then she leant in to kiss him again, with much more abandon than appropriate and yet this was the only thing she could think of.

George indeed helped her to fasten her chemise a while later but only to sit and share a modest meal with her, bread and cheese and wine. They went to bed again, after he had gotten hold of some warm water and a piece of linen for her to wash herself, and when he‘d finished refreshing himself she was already back in bed.

„You do not indent to rest on the floor, do you?“

„Oh, my coat is comfortable, and the floor is dry, no wild animals, so maybe I should-,“ he smiled at her, for once enjoying her banter.

„My poor George, this is what you had to endure?“

He shrugged, still smiling down at her, his hair loose now and framing the contour of his chiseled cheekbones.

„Come and lie with me this night. Share the bed with me.“

Her curves were covered by thin musselin now, but sinking into the pillow next to her and pulling her against him indeed was a better way to settle for the night than many nights before.

„Is what we did how these deeds are always done?“

_God almighty. Lydia._

He felt a small hand on his thigh, venturing inwards.

„Just that one time and _he_ needs to rest now? Or would there be interest in _more_?“

„Question one, there are many ways - God, Lydia, what you do to me - how a husband can please his wife and vice versa - my dear, this is,  
yes, this - and question two-,“ his voice trailed off and he rolled on his back, eyes closed now, thinking that this was indeed the best night in a long time, surprisingly enough.

„I guess it is fair to say that this answers my question,“ Lydia giggled, pleased by how he surrendered to her touch, excited by the soft moan he emitted when she added the slightest bit of more pressure and then some more.

„Faster, my love. You will not hurt me. Faster and a firmer touch,“ he breathed, his voice hoarse now.

And when she followed his advice, she saw her husband to be arching his back, his hand around hers, governing her speed now, and she started to understand that she had a power she had never known.

She watched him, saw his firm muscles working, saw him biting his lower lip, his face contorted now for a brief moment, he moved her hand faster than she had expected for him to be enjoyable, but then he groaned and she felt his release leaking over her hand, his movements much slower now, pulling her in for a languorous kiss.

His hands were searching and finding the hem of her chemise, and albeit Lydia was longing to rest and sleep she felt a welcome excitement when George‘s hand ventured to that extraordinary spot she’d learnt about earlier.

Yet she felt a little tender when his fingers made contact, it was not as pleasing as she had expected it to be and she drew a sharp breath. 

„Did I leave you sore?“, he whispered, and she could swear that there was a moment of amusement in his voice.

„No, no it’s nothing,“ Lydia tried to hide her discomfort.

„You feel a little tender,“ his finger ventured on, only the softest touch, „and if I insisted to venture on I would hurt you. But let me tell you a secret, no, even two“, his voice was very low now, his touch elusive, and despite feeling a little sore just _there_ Lydia felt an unknown aching for more, „you would still enjoy it even if you felt a little pain.“

„George, no,“ but her voice was weak and he breathed a laugh in her ear, his hair tickling her cheek.

„You do not want to know how?,“ he teased her, his finger grazing over the delicate opening, „There. You feel sore - and yet this is so enjoyable, my dear, that you would like to have more, am I right?“

And he was right, she did not want him to stop, quite contrary, and his fingers - oh Lord, her sisters had no idea - 

„You are right,“ she breathed, her eyes closed now.

„I know… like this…there...now as you know how good it is you want more… and then some more…,“ and his fingers kept moving, and Lydia couldn’t separate the two sensations anymore, the ache was pleasurable, and the pleasure overpowered the feeling of soreness — she was craving both, while George‘s voice in her ear was so tempting, seducing her to let go again. „And my second secret is this: I know how to not cause you any discomfort at all. Just the sweetest of all joy. And I came to think that you will enjoy that very much. So just let me.“

He had not intended to do this with Lydia tonight, and yet he was absolutely certain that she would enjoy it - after an initial moment of stunning surprise.

She looked confused when he turned away and sat up, but before she could complain he moved down, slowly moved her gown over her slender hips and bent down, one hand opening her legs for better access. 

A gentle kiss, a gasp of surprise, his tongue finding the right spot to please her, his hands securing her hips, slowly and languorously licking her, Lydia‘s breathing fast and ragged, and he was sure she was not spending another second with any thought about feeling sore, his tongue a little deeper now, and she did not wince this time, but the noises she made were promising, he liked his women being loud, and finally she was wet enough for fast and smooth laps, and he knew she was there when she cried out in abandon, all the tension leaving her body, shuddering once more when he licked that sensitive swollen spot again.

„Oh George.“

„Quiet, my love.“

„George,“ her voice was soft and silent, speaking of her sweet exhaustion.

He came up, an amused smile playing around his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkled. Seeing Lydia so sated - and so vulnerable - awoke sentiments in him he could not name nor deal with.

„I assume you enjoyed it?“

That earned him a soft giggle.

„Well, I am delighted that I could please and surprise you. But you should sleep now. It’s time to rest.“

He bent down and kissed her cheek, knowing she would be asleep in mere minutes.

„George, I had no idea. Neither about the first secret nor about the second.“

„There is more, Lydia. But not tonight. Sleep now. We will leave before dawn. It will be a long journey.“

„Right,“ her voice was sleepy now, but she fought Morpheus once more, „but did we not intend to stay in London for a while?“

„I changed my opinion. And hence we will leave tomorrow. Probably even today, it might be well after midnight.“

„Where are we going?“

„To Gretna Green. As fast as we can. I do not wish us to procrastinate further.“

Lydia wanted to ask why there was suddenly such a hurry but before she could hold on to the question and phrase it, sleep claimed her and she drifted off.

George Wickham waited for his bride to be fast asleep, silently got up, refreshed and dressed himself, took a deck of cards from his travel sack, found a few coins, and set off to the inn‘s backroom he had spotted upon arrival. 

This night was as good as any night to earn some financial means - or maybe even better, because he had not been in such a good mood in a very long time.

—————-

Lydia woke up when he came back to the room, just before dawn, and his large hand came to rest on her shoulder for a moment before he leant in and kissed her cheek.

„Rush, dear, we need to leave. There is a carriage leaving in a few minutes.“

„But who will dress me? Pleat my hair?“

„There is no time for that,“ his voice had an urgent undertone, „but I promise you it will be different tomorrow. And you are beautiful to me, and I will help to fasten your dress. Just rush.“

They left before sunrise - and before any of the men who had spent the night gambling with the stranger with a boyish smile and pleasant manners were awake and had time to count their losses. And long before a gentleman arrived and claimed to search for his fiancée‘s sister and her _husband_.

They were the only passengers and so there was no one to judge the young couple when they shared a scandalously inappropriate kiss in the dim intimacy of the carriage, the young lady with her hair tousled and unkempt, but with a radiant smile.  



End file.
